


Betrayal

by AndreaRyan



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blood and Injury, Declarations Of Love, Falling In Love, Falling In Love Again, Full Moon, Kissing, M/M, Making Love, Marauders, Order of the Phoenix (Harry Potter), Podfic & Podficced Works, Podfic Available, Post-Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Werewolves, ridiculously well, sirius looks ridiculous in his velvet suit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:09:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27190879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndreaRyan/pseuds/AndreaRyan
Summary: Dumbledore sent Sirius to Remus' house. Remus isn't sure why, he never knows why Dumbledore does anything. Once upon a time, Sirius and he were lovers and he thought they would always share bed together, but now he finds himself offering his bed to Sirius with the intention of sleeping on the couch. They are not lovers any more and he isn't sure they can fix this.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	Betrayal

**Author's Note:**

> I absolutely adored writing this. I also made a podfic which I am going to publish right after this.

  
  


**Part 1**

The knocking on the door was quiet, barely audible, and to Remus it sounded like clapping of a thunder. He only just sat down after his legs started to hurt from a morning of pacing around his cottage. They shook as he stood up, the pressure in his head getting stronger and for a second, he thought he might faint. His heart banged against his rib cage as if it was trying to run away from him and it must have taken him years to get to the door. 

The handle was cold in his hand as he gently put pressure on it and then, with a soft pop, the door opened, and behind it was Sirius. Somehow, he expected him to be dressed in ragged clothes, dirty and with rotten teeth like the last time he saw him. But Sirius was dressed in a fine velvet suit, jacket opened. The waistcoat hugged his thin frame, not hiding the fact he still had some weight to put on before he was back to his old body. His teeth were fixed, nice and white, his hair washed, beard trimmed. 

'Well, are you going to invite me in?' Sirius asked and Remus quickly stepped aside. It was unwise to stand there any longer. After all, the wizarding world still considered Sirius to be a murderer and a traitor. 

'You look well,' Remus said and immediately, regretted doing so. It sounded like he didn’t expect Sirius to look well - which he didn’t, but he didn’t want Sirius to know. It sounded too trained and polite for someone who shared the history they did. 

'Dumbledore gave it to me.' Sirius ran his hand over the waistcoat. 'I look like my old dad.'

It’s true he never looked so much like a Black as that day. Were his suit any other colour than the deep crimson he always favoured because of his house, he would think they sent him the wrong Black or maybe that he was seeing a ghost. 'He wouldn’t wear red.' 

'Yes. True. I always liked red.' He touched the fabric again as if he couldn’t quite get used to wearing something this lavish.

'I know,' Remus replied automatically and that too, he regretted, because somehow it sounded wrong. All he could say to Sirius sounded wrong and he didn’t know how to turn his words otherwise. 

'I’ll make tea,' Remus offered then, just to get away from Sirius. He almost asked:  _ How are you? _ But he stopped himself at the last moment, because that would be the silliest of the silliest things he could say. 

'Where is Buckbeak?' he asked instead.

'Safe,' Sirius assured him. 

Remus nodded. 'Are you hungry?' 

'I am fine.' 

Another nod. This was not how Remus imagined their reunion. It was worse and better. His mind often played the worst possible scenarios - those he favoured for years - and the best - those he hoped for around full moons. None of them was like this. 

* * *

They sat in the main room of Remus’ little cottage where he returned, defeated by his own self once more. The year he spent in Hogwarts brought much to feel remorse over. The hope he gave into it when entering the borders, the inability to win over his lycanthrophy, not being able to help Harry more... But, Sirius was not one of those regrets. The only thing he hated about the whole situation was that he ever thought that Sirius would…

'It’s cosy here,' Sirius stated as they sat down. 

The cottage was modest to say the least and he couldn’t tell if Sirius was honest, but considering where he spent the last twelve years, the small, nearly empty place must have seemed like an upgrade. 

'Thank you. It’s not exactly the Black manor.' Once again, Remus wanted to take his words back, but to his relief, Sirius laughed. 

'Thank Merlin! This is much better.' He smiled, revealing his teeth. Remus wondered who healed it. He didn’t know a spell which could heal teeth and he didn’t think Sirius knew it either, but he was glad that someone healed it. This way, they could pretend that something else was like it used to be. 

Remus watched Sirius’ long bony fingers as they wrapped around the cup and he swallowed harshly. Those fingers which used to touch him, caress him, that took care of his wounds, and that were there for him anytime he needed. 

'I am sorry you lost your job,' Sirius offered then. 

'That happens.'

'I always thought you would be a great teacher.'

Remus smirked. 'Because I did your homework so many times?' 

Sirius laughed again. Remus wasn’t convinced it was the same laugh he remembered, but it was familiar enough. He would take it. 'Yes.' 

The memories of their younger days flooded Remus’ mind. All of the stories he tried to keep away from his conscience suddenly broke through the chains tholding them back and came hurtling at him. He felt a little sick again.

He looked at Sirius and into his eyes, still grey, just more tired. Those he remembered the best. Those changed the least. They were his constant. Whether he was Sirius or Padfoot, his eyes remained. 

The silence that overtook them felt forced and Remus wondered if Sirius was as afraid to say anything more, because it might mention one of the boys who were no longer part of the Marauders and the sheer fact that the Marauders were no longer existing, because they could only exist when there was all four of them. 

* * *

'Dumbledore will send a message when it will be convenient to move,' Remus announced, even when he expected Sirius to know. 

Sirius nodded. It was unclear whether it meant he truly did know already, or because he was just acknowledging the fact that in a couple days or maybe weeks, he would be back in the house where he grew up, back with the Order and yet not. 

Because the Order - just like the Marauders - felt like it shouldn’t exist without so many of the founding members no longer there. 

'I only have one bedroom,' Remus continued then. 'You can have it. I’ll sleep on the couch.' The couch was way too small for someone as tall as Remus, but it seemed right to offer his bedroom - his bed - to Sirius who deserved comfort after so many years of unjust prison life. And it also felt wrong, because years ago he thought he would always share his bed with Sirius. 

'I can take the couch. I don’t mind,' Sirius assured him. 'I don’t want to be more of a burden.'

'You’re not a burden,' Remus blurted out, but the uncharacteristically neutral face that now seemed permanent for Sirius, told him he did not believe him. 

'Still,' Sirius murmured. 'Couch is fine.' 

Remus didn’t press the matter any further. 

'Was the journey safe?' Remus asked then, needing another topic. 

'I Apparated.'

Remus frowned. 'Won’t the ministry know?' 

Sirius shook his head. He reached into his jacket and pulled out quite simple wand. 'Dumbles said they can’t trace it.' 

Remus smiled when Sirius said  _ Dumbles _ , because for a second he sounded like the teenage boy he remembered. 

The one who made too many jokes, many inappropriate. The boy who loved Zonko’s and late night walks in the forest. The boy who came up with wild schemes, and tried to go through with them even if they were dangerous and often led to detention. The boy who plastered Gryffindor memorabilia all over his walls to piss off his parents and who Remus suspected got sorted into said house just to get back at them. The boy who loved his friends so much, he was willing to die for them. The boy who never got the trial he deserved. 

A wave of anger enclasped him. This was something he never understood. Death Eaters got trials, sometimes short, sometimes lengthy, but Sirius who could easily prove his innocence if given the chance was locked immediately. It was this fact that for years made Remus believe he did the unthinkable. 

And that angered him even more, because looking at Sirius who sat there in that ridiculous velvet suit, how could he ever believe this man would do something like this? That boy he knew? 

Remus watched the wand for a second, then nodded. 'He always had his secrets.' 

'We all did,' Sirius whispered so quietly, Remus almost missed it. He put the wand back into his jacket. 

* * *

They sat like this the whole afternoon, neither one of them addressing what needed to be addressed. The whole list of apologies, explanations, betrayals and lamentations. How would you even start a conversation like that? And how could you talk about anything else when the rueful list was still laid between you?

The evening came and Remus offered to make dinner. 

'I’ll help,' Sirius jumped to his feet, probably glad to be able to concentrate on anything else but the books in the room and the pressed circles in the table where they were tattooed by countless cups of coffee and black tea. 

Remus looked him up and down and his lips curled up. 'In this?' 

Only then,Sirius seemed to remember what he was wearing, and he let out a chuckle. He took off his jacket and then his waistcoat, and he rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt. He looked several years younger like this. 

'Well?' 

'I’ll get you an apron anyway.' 

As promised, Remus gave Sirius an apron which was once upon a time white and which was now batiqued with orange and red and green spots. He wrapped it around his hips, and pushed his hair behind his ears. 

'You know, I’ve never actually cooked. I tried it in the safe house,' he admitted. 'Before Dumbles brought the wand.' 

Remus knew about the safe house. He didn’t know where it was, but he knew Sirius was there. He talked to Dumbledore about it. Just to know that somewhere, Sirius was safe, but he never asked where it was. He needed time to process all of the news, the old reopened wounds.

'I like it better than magic-made food,' Remus said.

'I know,' Sirius replied. 'I remember.' 

* * *

They cooked in silence, apart from Remus’ commands and advice. 

'Cut the spinach, please.' Remus handed Sirius a handful of dark green leaves from the fridge and he turned his back to Sirius to rummage through the cupboard in search of anything they might use. 

The sharp tapping of the knife against the wooden cutboard filled the room. The pace was quick and before Remus realized just how quick it was, Sirius’ curses tore him from his scavenger hunt. 

Without thinking about it, Remus grabbed Sirius’ bleeding hand to examine it. There was a small bleeding wound on his middle finger. It was only then, he noticed there were scars on Sirius’ fingers. Small and barely visible, but they were there. He swallowed, unsure if he wanted to know the story behind them. He stuck Sirius’ hand under the tap and let the water wash off the blood before he reached for his wand, and casted a simple healing spell. No scar would stay after this one. 

'You have to tuck your fingers,' Remus said. 

Sirus’s eyebrows shot up in confusion. 'What?' 

'When you’re cutting something. You have to tuck your fingers so the knife can slide down and you don’t chop them off. Like this.' 

Still holding Sirius’ hand he led him back to the chopping board and he placed Sirius’ hand on the spinach, his own hand over it. He forced Sirius’ fingers to curl in and he gave him back the knife to try. Sirius lifted the knife and swung it down. For a second of horror, Remus thought they would both lose their whole hands like this. 

'No!' Remus exclaimed. He stood even closer to Sirius, his chest now pressed to Sirius’ back, chin resting on his shoulder to see over it. He put his free hand over the one which held the knife, and he led Sirius’ movement. 

'Like this. Front and back. Like a swing.' 

'I think I got it,' Sirius stated after a few tries, and Remus let go of his hands, and stepped back, suddenly aware of just how close to Sirius he stood, and how his body missed the closeness of another being. 

He watched carefulyl as Sirius moved the knife across the board, slicing the leaves into thin stripes. 

'Good. You’re doing great,' he encouraged. 

Sirius smiled at him. 'And the professor is back.' 

Remus laughed shortly and shook his head. 

* * *

'How long have you lived here?' Sirius asked at dinner. 

'A few years. I thought I would move after my first year at Hogwarts, but...well…' he didn’t have to finish for Sirius to understand. He nodded.

'Well, you are going to move.'

'True. And into the house of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black,' Remus remembered the old joke they used to tease Sirius with. 

Sirius rolled his eyes. He dug his fork into the stew they made. 'You know. I thought that one day we would end up living in a house like that,' he admitted. 'Not my parent’s house in particular, but a house like that. Old one in London. I always thought you would like it.' 

Remus watched, unsure how to react to that confession. They never got to talk about their future before it was completely stolen from them. Not enough at least. 

During their last year, when they got together, they agreed to move in together, but it was still more of a friendly gesture than a romantic one. And by the time they did, the war was raging and if they talked about the future at that time, it was only in hopeful whispers of:  _ 'When this is over, we should travel.'  _ Or:  _ 'When this is over, we should redecorate the living room.'  _

There were never long-term plans, and it surprised Remus that Sirius had them. 

'I didn’t know you thought about that sort of stuff,' he admitted eventually, needing to get it out, because if he kept any more words to himself, they might bubble out.

'Yeah, of course I did.' Sirius took a large bite of the stew, its yellow juice staining his beard. 

Remus watched the stain for a bit, guilt building up inside him. Sirius said it as if it was the most obvious thing. So obvious, it was impossible that Remus wouldn’t think about it, too. Why didn’t he? Would it make any difference if he did? 

'I would like it,' Remus whispered into his plate, but it took him too long, and by the time he did say it, Sirius seemed to forget about the conversation altogether. 

'What?'

'The house. Old one in London. I would have liked it.' 

'Oh.' Sirius smiled. 'Well, you’re getting it at the end.' 

_ Yes,  _ Remus thought.  _ But WE are not. I and YOU are, but not WE.  _ And that made all the difference.

They finished the meal in more silence. Remus collected the plates, and took them to the kitchen and when he returned, he wiped the yellow stain off Sirius’ beard. Sirius stared at him as if he was only half aware of why Remus was so close. Remus’ lips twitched, but he didn’t smile. It was far from a smile. 

Instead, Remus frowned. Softly, so his muscles barely moved and it were his eyes that darkened along with his thought. His thumb rested on Sirius’ chin for a little longer and then he let his hand fall. For some time he thought that maybe, they could get over everything and start anew, or just start. Or maybe not even start, just continue. Now, he knew it would not be possible, because they were never on the same page to begin with. 

Sirius imagined an old London house for them, Remus just wanted to make it to another full moon. 

* * *

'I’ll bring you a pillow and some blanket,' Remus said, and disappeared to his bedroom. 

He prepared the couch for Sirius to sleep on, and he watched it for a second, not because he wanted to change something about it, but because his brain gave up here and there, overwhelmed by Sirius’ presence which somehow seemed out of place and alien. 

'Alright,' Remus muttered finally. 'Good night.' He turned around and headed for his bedroom. 

But before he managed to close his door, Sirius’ voice reached him: 'Good night, Moony.' 

No one called him Moony for 13 years. A lump formed in his throat and he had to force himself to swallow a few times, before he turned around and told Sirius what he should have said the second he found him in the Shrieking Shack: 'I didn’t know, Padfoot. I didn’t know you traded places. I had no idea. If I knew, I would never...I thought…' 

Sirius nodded, sadness overtaking each feature of his face, then he half smiled, but it didn’t look any more cheerful. 'I know. It’s alright. I should have told you. I thought it would be safer if no one knew.' 

Remus nodded, too, but didn’t say anything else. He closed his door and when he changed and climbed in his bed, he tried his best to ignore the restless groans of a person who spent the whole night tossing and turning on the couch of his sitting room. 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Betrayal - Podfic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27191035) by [AndreaRyan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndreaRyan/pseuds/AndreaRyan)




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